


D.I.G.

by Cyanna



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Female Reader, Future Relationships, Other, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Reader can shapeshift to an extent, Reader-Insert, tags will be updated as time goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9598241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyanna/pseuds/Cyanna
Summary: Oasis is the safest city in the world. That is, until the city's power shuts off. Out in the scientifically advanced city for some commission work, you'd never expect to be the target of an inhumane experiment to test the limits of genetic manipulation. Your life will never be the same again.





	1. Science Without Limits

Your footsteps echo throughout the main hall of the university. Slowly waltzing around the dinosaur skeleton in front of you, you practice sketching the layout of its bones, the possible muscle structure, and your own interpretation of the beast were it to be alive. It was quite late at night, and you were trying to gather as much information on the fossils displayed around the room as possible before retiring to your room to continue your work there. You decided to focus on a single skeleton for the time being; time management wasn't exactly your forte. If you tried fitting each prehistoric beast into your sketch book in one sitting, you'd be up for weeks.

Oasis was the hot spot for learning, what with the massive university towering over the surrounding landscape. Too bad you didn't attend the university. You were called to Iraq by the head of the Ministry of Geology, Dr. Anya Al-Shahrani, to help work on a project to help bring the study of paleontology to life. Scientists from the Vishkar Corporation who worked with hard light had an idea to reanimate the dinosaurs that the university held, showcasing their looks and movements. The negativity surrounding the corporation almost repelled you from accepting the job. You've heard the terrible stories about how they try to save people's lives but end up making them worse. This job isn't something that will ruin lives. It's just a tiny project to renew the excitement about going to the Oasis University, and you just happened to be an animator with an affinity for modeling fantastic creatures. Plus, a little money never hurt anyone, especially being an artist on commission.

If anything were to be wrong with this job, you could just quit and get law enforcement involved. Hopefully it didn't turn to that.

You knew the basics about most prehistoric creatures and dreamed of being able to excavate a new species at some point in your life. Alas, your specialty in the arts led you on a different path. Self taught your whole life, you had some great networking done when you decided to attend an art college to major in computer generated animation. Some of the greatest film networks asked for your expertise, yet you held out for the jobs which you thought would be more fun than stressful.

Scribbled on the top of your current page: Deinonychus. It's not exactly the same height as you are, but intimidating all the same. It's a dinosaur from the United States, just like most large-scale raptors. Even as the center of scientific development, the Middle East still had a fossil deficiency. Most fossils in the university were imported from elsewhere in the world, making it extremely important that they stay preserved and safe. The entirety of Oasis was under strict surveillance, making sure criminals never took a single step onto the streets.

You've finished the sketch of the raptor from multiple points of view, feathers and all. You gaze at your phone and notice how late it is; two in the morning. It's about time to head to the hotel to finalize the three-dimensional modeling process.

It's a cool night. Cars buzz by as you walk to your fancy hotel room, paid for by Dr. Al-Shahrani. On the way, you can't help but recall some information she had told you about Oasis. "A city where science has no restraints". The ambiguity of this statement leads your mind into all of the possibilities of inventions and ideas that could come true. At the same time, is it something to be worried about? Complete freedom to do as you wish with science isn't something that should just fly over your head. It's been witnessed countless times where the law can't catch geniuses that have way too much time on their hands, ignoring humane laws of science. This whole hard light project is entirely possible under these circumstances, knowing Vishkar.

Any one else could have been picked for the job, but retired professors from all over the world who had more experience in what you can do just weren't able to be contacted. Dr. Al-Shahrani had called and emailed them all but to no avail. No one answered back. No one knows why, but you seemed like the only other reputable option. You were secretly happy that the professors hadn't replied, but also worried as to their conditions. They should be able to respond with a simple yes or no, shouldn't they? You pause this thought as you dig in your pocket for your ticket into your room. You take out your key card and buzz yourself in, making sure to carefully close the door as quietly as possible.

You've just brought some essentials with you to Oasis; Your beefy laptop, phone, chargers for electronics, sketch pads, snacks that could keep you full without having to spend much money, various tools for drafting, and even an outdated encyclopedia on dinosaurs.

Your mother had gotten it for you when you were a child. It warms your heart to think back to that memory; you've owned countless toys of prehistoric creatures rather than girly dolls. Your mother embraced your interests and purchased a massive encyclopedia, filled to the brim with information and pictures of dinosaurs. Thanks to her, reptiles were the best thing you knew how to draw. It landed you this job, here, in the most scientifically advanced city in the world. Calling it an unexpected opportunity is an understatement.

Setting up your laptop, you flip the pages in your sketch book to the page on Deinonychus. You've already filled out most of the raptor's skeleton with mass on your three dimensional modeling program, but the details are still needed. Rigging is also something that will need to be finished. You take your time, making sure the creature looks hyper-realistic.

It's four in the morning. The model has been fully detailed and the final touches to the rig has been completed. Tomorrow, Vishkar employees will work to bring the model into the real world with the help of hard light. It's exciting to think that you'll be able to walk around and be able to touch the model you have just created in a matter of days. It won't have the exact colors as your model due to the hard light's capabilities, but nevertheless, a little hard light raptor will be running around the university at the touch of a button. People won't have to panic, as the raptor won't have free will. Science without limits still has some limitations on its own, including the fact that a prehistoric predator shouldn't be given instincts.

You'll have to get used to new technology if you are to animate the dinosaur running around the main hall. For now, you save your hard work onto a USB and shove it into your pocket for safekeeping. Your eyes are falling out of your head, so there's no use in changing into pajamas for a mere two hours of sleep. Closing the laptop and setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch, you lay down and drift off to sleep.

You awake half an hour later to the sound of the kitchen appliances losing power, low buzzing coming to a halt. The extreme silence following the event was eerie, almost making you unable to fall back asleep. It's not often that you've caught yourself in a situation where electronics stop working altogether, but it's also not phenomenon to be worried about. Besides, you're still completely and utterly exhausted for staying up as late as it is. Cars are still racing by the hotel, giving you a different background noise to focus on as you quickly fall back into your dreams.

Oasis is said to be the safest city in the world. It would be nice if this statement could have held its promise. When the power cut out, surveillance cameras did as well. All communication systems shut down. When you are awoken for a second time, the whole world goes quiet.

It's as if you're in a fever dream. You open your eyes, only to see a very fuzzy outline of the couch you were once laying on, lit up by an unknown light source emanating from the window of the room. Black and white dots speckle the corners of your vision and you know you're going to pass out again. You realize your shoulder is in pain, right up by your neck, but you're just too tired to put together coherent thoughts as to why it could be.

You can't move your head. It's not because you haven't gotten enough sleep due to your late night modeling, you can't seem to really move anything. Pieces to this puzzle aren't fitting together to tell you that something is terribly wrong. As you fall into unconsciousness, black smoke is the only thing you can see.

 

* * *

 

"Subject...

Code name: D.I.G.

Occupation: Artist on Commission"

You can barely hear the automated voice recite this information. Your head is pounding like you've gotten hit in the head with a baseball bat.

"Test seventeen was a success. It seems that the genetic modification is finally starting to work as intended. There will still be adverse effects to transformation, but nothing as life threatening as before."

Someone's talking, and the way they are putting their words, odds are, they're talking about you.

"Great. We can do a wipe at the end of the day and begin the process of stabilizing and controlling Dig."

You curl your fingers and toes, finally starting to get a sensation of touch back. You're laying on a cold metal table, forearms and calves clamped down to prevent much more movement. A harsh white light explodes into your vision when you open your eyes, promptly closing them at the offending sight.

"She's awake," a voice around you starts, "Mind signaling Reaper to come check out our progress?"

Reaper... the name sounds vaguely familiar as if you've heard it on the radio maybe once whilst drawing, off in your own little world, too distracted to care.

"Sure. Go ahead and click the remote on. Only fifteen minutes this time, we can't risk the subject collapsing again. It was a pain in the ass to get her here without trouble, and I sure as hell don't want to take another risk."

What looks to be the scientist that just spoke walks out of the room. You stare at all of the screens and papers strewn across the counter tops. It's some sort of laboratory, but the air isn't one that says "science for the greater good". It's oddly quiet, aside from the sound of another scientist picking up a metallic device and setting it next to your ear with a loud clank of metal against metal.

"Where am I?" You ask through gritted teeth, trying to calm your raging migraine.

"Not like you're going to remember any of this anyways," the man says, tinkering with the clamps holding your limbs down, "So there's no point in telling you."

Once all of the clamps are released, you sit up. You're much too vulnerable to try any sort of escape method, especially when you don't know where the hell you are, so you just stretch. A sharp pain jolts up your spine and into your skull as you try to bend your back. The sudden realization that the two scientists had talked about how something was done to you hits you like a brick. You hurriedly look at the screens on the walls of the room, all of them filled with information and scientific lingo that you couldn't possibly decipher on your own. The one thing that immediately catches your eye is a monitor that has your USB plugged in. The model of the raptor that you had created rotates on the screen, but on a program like nothing you have ever seen before.

The scientist in the room with you once again picks up the strange metal device. It's got a rectangular appearance to it, dark black metal with a silver knob on one end. The knob reminds you of an oven timer from old times when you were just a baby. A yellow light flashes above the knob on the side perpendicular to its location, possibly tracking something or sending signals. On the opposite side of the knob, a logo is printed on. It's not one you recognize.

Without any chance of preparation or warning, the man turns the dial, yellow light flashing erratically.

All of the sudden, the pain in your head swells and you can't help but yell out in agony. Your spine is screaming in pain, feeling as though it's being pulled from the tailbone. Nothing feels real anymore and the only thing you can focus on is the intense light surrounding you, pulling and pushing at your body, forcing it to bend to its whims.

Then, it stops. You can't feel, you can't see.

It takes around five seconds to open your eyes, but something's a bit off. Your eyesight is amazing. It's actually beyond amazing; it's not possible for a regular human being to see this clearly. It's also not possible for a human being to have feathers. Or a tail. Or a blind spot smack in the middle of their view. Or claws that could rip flesh right off the bone.

Much to your own amazement, you're standing. The pain wasn't enough to knock you to your knees or cause you to lay down begging for mercy to the man holding the remote, whom stands in front of you smiling.

"To think all of those professionals could have created this extraordinary ability..."

Professionals? Is this where the scientists had gone who never responded to Al-Shahrani? It would make sense, but why would they work for this strange place? Perhaps they were kidnapped like you were. After all, the man did say something about a wipe, possibly to remove memories prior to arrival at this laboratory.

Speaking of a wipe, they mentioned after whatever test they were putting you through, you'd have your memories wiped.

You had to do something before you forgot who you were.

The man puts the remote down cautiously on the table once again. He's obviously scared that there's a dinosaur standing in front of him, but comforted knowing it has the conscience of a person who doesn't know what's going on.

The fear in your eyes is evident. You can see yourself in the reflection of the floor, and you don't even know where to start with yourself. Take a step? Make a break for it in a new form that you have absolutely no clue how to control?

Your terrified expression was enough to calm the man down and assume a proud stance. What an asshole.

This man was going to take everything away from you. First your freedom, then your body, and then your humanity. It's enough to make anyone want to fight for their life.

So you leap. Right at the man's face. Wiping that smug grin off of his face with a righteous kick, disregarding the massive claw you now possessed. That man's going to need to get the hole in his cheek stitched up.

The screams coming from the scientist you attacked has footsteps echoing all around you. Above, you hear heavy feet stomping down stairs, presumably to come and kill you for injuring personnel. Not wanting to cause any further trouble, you do the one thing that every living creature does best when trying to survive.

As soon as the door opens even a crack, you make a break for it. Screaming the most terrifying screech ever to be heard, you race up the stairs into new territory. You're not the only one screaming, of course. No one ever thought that a fucking dinosaur of all things could break out of containment. Not at all. The smart people in the room push over chairs and desks to blockade you from reaching them should you have a thirst for blood. They must've prepared for this event, practicing getting the hell out of there, yet making it hard for you to follow.

You search for any possible way out, ignoring the comical yelps and exasperated expressions around you. The only "safe" way appears to be a window. There's three armed guards running into the room from a door leading outside, sights trained right on you.

The chances of being shot if you try to run by the guards' legs is close to a sure thing. A window could hurt you, but it's better than being killed or captured. Being killed would probably be better than to be used for disgusting experiments like this.

Window it is. Birds often fly into windows mistakenly, right? If you act like a real raptor, maybe people will be just as scared as you are. You know your hissing is unconvincing in your mind, but no one has ever heard a dinosaur, so they'll only have one thought in their mind: holy shit, we need to run.

There's too many scientists in the room for the guards to safely shoot at you if you don't run right at them. Making an effort to climb and leap over fallen furniture, you brace yourself for impact on the window, breaking right through it. You end up falling two stories, roughly landing on your feet. If you were anything but what you are now, your legs would be shattered just like the window. Shaking yourself out of a dazed state, you hear the guards from above shouting profanities, yelling for backup, and remarking about how that window was supposedly bulletproof.

You're more concerned with leaving this forsaken facility than questioning that last remark. You make a sprint for what seems to be the way out: a large metal gate, currently closing under an emergency breech protocol. Pushing your legs faster than you ever thought you could, you zoom up to the gate.

Almost free.

A bright yellow light flashes in your vision, the same feeling of transformation overtaking your senses. It pushes and pulls your bones and muscles, returning your form to that of a human. The door slams shut just feet away from your arrival. Tripping on your feet attempting to stop yourself from hitting the wall with the speed you've built up, your body slides harshly on the ground, all hopes of escaping lost.

Sirens blare in your ears. You know you're bleeding pretty badly from road rash, skin stinging with every small movement you attempt. You await the guns, the shouts growing closer, death even, but none of that comes.

"Finally, you give me something interesting to watch."

You weakly lift your head, leaning on your forearms to look around you. You can't see anyone. Who just talked?

Just as you were about to set your head back down, head screaming in pain with a migraine, a woman appears out of thin air. She's holding a gun and... the little remote that was used to turn you into a monster.

"Look, you and I don't have much time to talk," she says as she holds up the remote and points to it with her gun. "Im not usually one who gets to make a lot of big decisions around here, but this one time, I think I'm going to make a difference."

You pull yourself onto your knees, although it is painstakingly difficult. She takes notice of this and lowers her gun. She runs over to the door and runs her hand over it. The door opens slightly, just enough for you to fit out of it if...

"Consider this a favor. You just have to owe me one in the future," she drops her gun and reaches to the dial on the remote, once again initiating the awful transformation from human to beast.

Once complete, she tosses it to your feet. "You've got twenty four hours to run. Don't let it go to waste." With that statement, she's gone again.

Making haste, you reach to grab the device with your mouth, what with raptor arms not being entirely versatile as once thought in the old days of paleontology.

The door clicks, signaling that it's going to start closing.

In this form, your headache is gone, your muscles are stronger, and you actually have a chance at escaping. You push yourself through the door, running in any direction that leads you away from this place.

This awful place. It had changed your life as you know it, possibly for forever.


	2. Animal Control

Your legs were aching.

Lungs burning with each new breath you took, you kept on running. The only thought on your mind was to get as far as you possibly could from the lab.

When you first spotted buildings on the horizon, you started to slow. Finally taking in your surroundings, you realized you had no clue where in the world you were taken to, nor where you had run off to. All you had seen for miles had been sand dune after sand dune. You take it you've been brought to Africa, as it's close enough to Iraq to cause as little problem as possible for your captors.

The sun is finally setting and the temperature is starting to cool. You don't have any clue how to survive the night if you don't make it to the civilization you have discovered.

Keeping a steady pace, you make it to the outskirts a few minutes after sundown. You have to stop yourself from racing into town after remembering your current appearance. No one is going to know how to deal with you. It's probably best you stay out of sight.

Slinking around behind buildings, ducking behind walls and walking as carefully as a stalking predator could, you work your way around the city. You keep to the shadows in search of a well hidden place to rest for the night.

You take a wrong step with your clumsy feet, kicking a rock onto the sidewalk right as civilians stroll by. Of course it hurt, but the goal isn't to frighten the locals by making a noise to exclaim it. You're pretty sure someone caught sight of your tail as you rushed out of sight.

Your tail? It still sounds incredibly ridiculous to refer to this raptor body as your own. Your five foot long tail, your fanged mouth holding onto a remote, your giant toe that has a massive claw jutting out of it, covered in a scientists's blood. Great. All yours now.

Your stomach growls. Another thing to be concerned with is what you will actually eat. Could you even eat normal food in this form? Are you forced to consume what could only be raw flesh? You could always wait for that twenty four hour time limit to run out on your transformation, although it will be excruciating. Pushing back that thought, you continue your search.

You've got to treat yourself like a cryptid. Someone's bound to witness you, even when you're trying your best to keep hidden. No one'll believe them when they say "there is a dinosaur running around town." If that word reaches the wrong people, however, you could be in big trouble.

The only truly safe position for you to be asleep in this form is under bush or underground. None of these places are easy to get to. As a raptor, you can't exactly open doors or lift up sewer drain covers. The only bushes here are in planters, surrounded by high walls.

High walls. The roof of a building could work well, but it'll still be cold. You've got yourself a new task: look for a blanket or cover of some sort. Turning down the first alley you find, you spot a dumpster.

This isn't going to be the proudest thing you've ever done. The lid is open, inviting you in for a good dive. You drop the remote on the ground outside the bin, finally getting a rest for your sore jaw. You make a grand hop onto the ledge of the dumpster, surprised at the height you've managed to jump.

It's full of nothing conveniently useful. There's cardboard boxes, but none big enough to fit you inside. You could rip them up for cover, which is better than nothing. You hop down in and grab the biggest of the boxes that you see.

With your heightened sense of smell, the trash smells absolutely awful. Combine the smell of spoiled milk with the spray of a skunk and multiply it by five. If the cold won't kill you, this smell sure will. Tossing the box out onto the concrete beside the dumpster, you hop back onto the rim. The smell of the garbage will probably linger on you until you have a proper way to bathe yourself.

You jump down to the floor and begin to manipulate the cardboard box into a flat sheet. Your claws turn out to be very useful box cutters, but it creates a very loud rip, echoing in the ally. You're sure to make quick work of the cardboard before someone comes to investigate the sound.

The roof behind the dumpster is within jumping distance if you close the dumpster lid and use it for leverage. That does bring another issue to deal with, however. The noise. If you get onto the roof in time, you won't need to worry about someone searching the floor below you to find the culprit of the booming slam that is sure to come.

As fast as you can manage, you jump on the dumpster for a third time and use your feet to slam the cover down. The loud bang is amplified in the alleyway. Someone has to be coming soon to investigate. You leap down to the ground and grab the cardboard sheet from the floor. Trying to jump up to the roof with it in your mouth is incredibly difficult with the amount of drag it causes, but you manage to get it up there.

Now, to grab your important remote.

Before you jump down for a final time, you scan the ends of the alley for any signs of activity. When you deem it clear to go, you jump, using your feathered arms and tail to slow your fall.

Landing with ease, you bend down to pick up the remote, careful not to hit anything on it that could ruin your life even more.

Taking a final hop onto the lid of the dumpster, claws clacking on the metal, you hear a door open a bit further down the alley. You're startled, looking in the direction of the sound. You expected people to run down the alley, not open up a screeching door.

You scramble up the wall to the roof, falling a bit short with your jump. Claws digging into the brick on your way up, you got a good look at the person who came outside. They sure got a good look at you too.

You can hear them shouting, but not in a language you understand. Your heart is racing with adrenaline, but you're safe. The yelling comes to a halt when the witness shuts their door with a bang. The poor person must be terrified.

What could they even do about you? No regular human being can reach the height you've climbed to get to where you are now.

A regular human being.

What will you even do when you're back to being a human? You're in an unknown location without a means of communication. You can ask around and hope a local knows enough English to realize you need to borrow their cell phone. Who would you call? Dr. Al-Shahrani? It's probably not wise to go back to Oasis if your captors know that you've left your most important belongings there.

You put the remote down next to you and lay down. It feels awkward trying to lay on your side, uncomfortable in this form. You're too used to being a human. The only comfortable position is to sleep like an ostrich, head stretched out in front of yourself whilst sitting down. Using your mouth to grab the cardboard and cover your feathered body for the night, you feel a bit more protected from the cold.

Without a game plan, you fall asleep with uncertainty about your future.

You'll have to wait and see what the next day brings.

 

* * *

 

"A bird."

"Yes! Like a small, mutated emu! It must have been brought from Australia, I've never seen anything like it," the voice on the phone panics.

"You're calling us about a bird," the gruff man sighs and puts an exasperated hand to his face. It's not often that Overwatch receives phone calls. When they do, it's really only for the most important or unusual tasks. Asking for backup to capture a fucking bird is one of the more unusual ones.

"It had a lot of blood on its foot and a giant claw! It's no ordinary bird!" It's hard to believe the person speaking. They're obviously scared for their life, but at the same time they seem to be acting way too dramatic about the situation.

"Is it really something that only we can deal with? What ever happened to the people who do this stuff professionally?"

"I sent for animal control earlier. They approached it while it was sleeping under some cardboard. They took the cover off and as soon as they saw the damn thing, they jumped off the roof, telling me they didn't deal with monsters."

The man once again sighs, making it very noticeable that he is in disbelief of this person's danger. "I'll see what we can do," he grumbles and hangs up the phone. "I'm too old for this shit."

The door to the man's office opens up, an older woman walking in and taking a seat at one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Jack, we all have to respond to missions that may not necessarily make sense," she says, trying to raise the man's spirit. "I overheard the call. It came from Egypt, correct?"

"Ana, we don't need to send out a team for a damn bird," Jack responds.

"I wouldn't mind going. If it really is something to be concerned with, then we should head out there. It doesn't even have to be an entire team. I can put the animal to sleep and we can have a few members to carry the creature onto the ship. Not a big deal at all," Ana suggests.

Jack sits back in his chair, contemplating the importance of the call he had just received. A damn bird is causing a stir in Egypt. Of all of the things Overwatch could be called for.

"Fine," he mutters. "We can send you with Angela, Reinhardt, Lena and Winston. If the thing really is dangerous, you'll have them as backup."

"Thank you, Jack. I'll keep you informed if anything interesting happens," Ana stands and waves goodbye as she begins to leave the room.

"A fucking bird," Jack grumbles to himself as the door closes.

 

* * *

 

You awake to the noise of the dumpster below you being moved. The sun has just risen, bathing the sky in a lovely lilac and yellow color combination.

The cardboard box that was once covering you is no longer in sight. The wind must've blown it away in the night.

Standing up and stretching your limbs, you look down at the remote. The little dial is over a quarter of way to the top of the device. You should be transforming in a few hours.

The sounds of a hushed conversation below you fill your ears. Slowly slinking over to the edge of the roof, you notice that the person who had seen you last night is talking to some sort of animal catcher, judging by the large net they hold. They're speaking in Arabic, but you guess they're probably plotting a way to get to you.

You move back, thinking of a way to get off of the roof. The buildings both behind and next to the one you're on are much too high to climb or jump onto. It seems that you're a bit stuck.

Across the way from you, the buildings are around the same height as the one you're on now. If you can get a good run up, you could pounce right over.

Grabbing the remote in your mouth, you get as far from the ledge as possible for a run up. You lower yourself for an aerodynamic leap and take your first step...

There's a sudden sting in your right leg. You yelp in surprised pain, dropping the remote and looking to the location of your sudden injury. It doesn't take long for you to realize you've been hit with a tranquilizer. Your mind goes fuzzy as you drop to the ground. The last thing you remember is the bright yellow light pulling you from your raptor transformation.

Not again.

 

* * *

 

"It's a girl," Ana speaks over the ear comm.

"The bird?" Jack questions, confused at the sudden contact from the mission field.

"It was not a bird. It seems like a human girl was transformed into a dinosaur," she looks down from her position on a roof above where your unconscious body lays.

"Vhat do you mean?" Reinhardt speaks over the comm, "do you need backup?"

"That won't be necessary. After shooting the creature, it transformed. I'm looking at the body of an unconscious girl right now," Ana replies. The person who had called Overwatch on the phone climbs onto the roof in which you lay, carrying a ladder for Ana to climb down on. "She's down for the count for a little while."

"She transformed? How is that possible?" Winston enters the conversation over the ear comm, "Last time I checked, dinosaurs are extinct. This doesn't make any sense."

Ana steps around your body, looking for any possible reason as to why you are as you are. Your entire right side is still raw from your escape from that strange facility the other day. Ana makes a note to dress those wounds when she can get you transferred to the drop ship.

There's a ton of chatter over the ear comm. Arguments over how it was even possible for a person to shape shift into a dinosaur, of all things. Arguments about how you got injured. Arguments about what to do with you.

She notices a glint of metal. Your remote. Ana picks it up, examining the dial and blinking yellow light. The dial faces upwards, revealing that you are not transformed at the moment.

Turning the device over, she notices the insignia printed into the back of it.

"Talon," she scoffs. "Must be a genetically modified agent."

"You've got to be kidding me," Jack says over the comm, shocked. "Take her and put her into one of the holding cells on the ship. We need answers once she wakes up."

"Got it. Reinhardt, come to my location. I'll need you to carry her over," Ana commands, "The poor girl is scratched up pretty bad."

"Right avay," Reinhardt replies.

"She's rather young. Why must Talon do this to people who have their entire lives ahead of them," Ana sighs, looking down at you.

"We can't treat her like she's innocent, Ana. We have no information about her other than the fact that she is in some way affiliated with Talon and can transform into a... dinosaur?" Jack says over the comm. "Get back to me when she wakes up. I don't want to hear about how she murders every single one of you because you've let your guards down."

With that, communications over the comms end.

When Reinhardt shows up, he's dressed as if he's ready for battle.

"Reinhardt, I don't think all of that armor is necessary to carry her to the drop ship," Ana laughs, fully expecting him to show up in casual wear.

"Ve have to expect anyzhing! Zhe girl is from Talon, so zhere could be more agents out here. Ve must be sure ve vill be safe," he stands proud, looking up to where Ana stands on the roof.

Smiling and shaking her head, she asks the witness to your arrival to help carry you over to Reinhardt. Carefully as to not irritate the wounds you already have, they lower you into Reinhardt's hands. He carries your unconscious body bridal style, holding you as if you're as fragile as glass. You may have just come from Talon, but there's no point in treating you like dirt if they don't know your story.

Ana stuffs your remote in a pocket on her cloak, ready to get it to Winston for close examination. She climbs down from the roof, thanking the witness for their call. It had been a worthwhile one after all.

The walk back to the drop ship is filled with speculative conversation.

"So, vhat do you zhink of zhis?" Reinhardt begins, keeping a slow walking speed as to not leave Ana in the dust with his large strides.

"I think we may have found someone who could help us get to the bottom of Talon's motives," Ana replies, glancing at you. Pausing for a moment, she makes a remark about your wounds. "I wonder who she was fighting."

"Ve vould have gotten a call from anozher civilian if she vas looking to kill," Reinhardt concludes, his expression fading to a scowl. "Her vounds appear to be from being zhrown across the floor razher forcefully."

Ana makes a quick diagnosis just from looking at your right arm. "Second-degree abrasions. They're not new, but they haven't been cared for yet."

Reaching the drop ship door, Lena is right at the entrance to let them in. She blinks and appears next to Reinhardt to get her first glance at you.

"She does look a little rough around the edges," she says, following the two on board. "Angela is waitin' in the holding cells. She's got a bed made up nice and comfy for our guest just to make it a bit more homely."

Reinhardt continues on his way to the cells, thanking Tracer. Ana pauses on her route behind him, remembering the remote.

"I've got something for Winston to take a look at," Ana says, reaching into her cloak pocket. She hands it over to Lena. "Tell him to make sure there is no tracking device inside of it. We can't have Talon agents following us around now that we have someone affiliated with them in our custody."

"You've got it," She replies, saluting. "We'll be on our way back to Gibraltar in ten minutes!"

"Thank you, dear," Ana smiles, watching Lena dash away.

When Ana reaches the holding cells, Reinhardt had already laid you down on the prepared bed. Angela sits in a chair by the head of the bed, ready to take a blood test.

"Good luck vith zhis one," Reinhardt says as he walks by Ana. He's on his way to take off his cumbersome armor. "I do hope Talon hasn't ruined anozher innocent life."

Ana enters the holding cell, knocking on the door frame to announce her arrival to the concentrating Angela. She looks up from the needle tip to acknowledge Ana.

Angela smiles at her, then returns to her duty. "It would be nicer to have her in the infirmary, but I understand the dangers of giving her freedom," she begins, sterilizing the spot on your arm from which blood will be drawn. She frowns at the wounds covering the right side of your body.

"Focus on the blood tests. I can dress her wounds once you finish up," Ana says, noticing her concern. Angela sighs in relief. The job of a medic is never over.

Angela begins to draw blood from your arm. "We will be able to identify if there has been any neural reconditioning in a few hours. If it comes back negative, we can assume she is not a Talon field agent. We will still need to question her as to what she is doing here in Egypt and how she is able to transform," she says, finishing up the process. "She may have undergone surgery whilst in Talon's custody to allow her this strange transformation ability. We will have to check for potential scars once she wakes up to confirm this." She stands up, starting towards the cell exit to take the samples to the lab.

"I hope we don't have another Amélie situation," Ana sighs as she takes Angela's seat. She begins to address your abrasions. Good thing you're completely asleep, the burning sensation from cleaning your wounds would make you wish you were knocked out.

"We all thought we could trust her. We know better now to be skeptical of anyone related to Talon," Angela stops in the cell's doorway and looks back to your unconscious body. "If we knew more about what happened to Amélie, we could have saved Gérard's life. And hers, as well."

"Amélie was irredeemable the second she set foot in the watchpoint after being kidnapped," Ana scowls. She could never forgive her for killing Gérard. She looks back at your young face, filled with the hope that she will be able to get rid of what had haunted her so often: the inability to save the lives of those that depended on her.

Ana would try her hardest to save you from Talon.

"Perhaps we caught this one just in time to save her from living the remainder of her life in a nightmare."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I adore Reinhardt? And Ana? The grandparents of Overwatch are just too sweet, you'll be seeing a lot more of them in the future!
> 
> Thanks for all of the support! I appreciate all of the comments and kudos <3


	3. A Long Way From Home

You awake to the low hum of an engine. The room you're in is dark, so it takes several seconds for your eyes to finally adjust.

It looks like you're in a prison cell.

You try to sit up but once again your head is screaming in pain. It's worse than the last time you woke up. You lay back down, wincing in pain as you struggle to get comfortable.

"Detecting activity in Holding Cell A," a robotic voice speaks over an intercom on the ship. Footsteps walk towards the door to your room.

"Thank you, Athena," someone replies outside of the door keeping you in confinement. "You woke up just in time. Your blood work should be processed momentarily." It sounds like an older woman. You can't exactly see through the small barred hole in the door.

"What do you want from me?" It's the only thing that came to your mind. After failing to find out where your first captors took you, it would be pointless to ask again.

There's silence behind the door. It seems like the woman is trying hard to think of what to say. "We want to know your story. Where did you come from and what business do you have in Egypt?" She finally asks.

You don't have any idea who this woman is, but given your current and unusual situation, you have no choice but to answer the questions she throws at you. Could she be one of the people who had captured you originally?

"I didn't know I was in Egypt," you state bluntly. Your raging headache is making it difficult to think of any good answers. "I just ran from wherever I was first taken to."

"First taken to? Were you abducted?" the woman asks almost immediately as if to make it clear that she had indeed heard correctly.

"I was originally in Oasis not too long ago. The only thing I can remember from the time I was taken was the power in the city going out and black smoke," you reply.

"When exactly were you taken?" the woman questions after a short pause. She's trying to piece together the information you're giving her.

"It seems like only a few days, but the scientist that I first saw when I first woke up said something about a seventeenth test?" you close your eyes, trying to remember the details.

"I don't think seventeen tests could be fit into just a few days," the woman remarks, "is it possible that you may have a bit of amnesia?"

You also heard the scientist talk about a wipe. A memory wipe.

"I might," you reply slowly. Has your mind been wiped multiple times before in that facility? How long have you actually been away from your regular life?

"You don't seem to be a sleeper agent, but we can't be too sure until your blood work comes back," the woman says with a hint of relief.

"A sleeper agent? An agent of what?" You ask.

"The terrorist organization Talon. The device we found you with had Talon's insignia imprinted on to the back plate of it," the woman responds.

"Terrorists-" you begin to question her, but the woman cuts you off by talking to someone else.

"The results are in?" She asks. She pauses for a short time, probably listening to someone's response through some sort of device. There's no other person outside the door besides her. "That's a good sign," she responds to the voice you cannot hear. You'd strain yourself to try and listen to who she's talking to if your head didn't feel like television static.

"Acknowledged," she finally states after another pause. She knocks on the door to your cell, signaling she is ready to talk with you again. "Your blood results came back normal. Besides the tranquilizer I shot you with, nothing odd was found."

You sigh in relief. Maybe you won't randomly lose your humanity and turn into a total monster. The thought that you were abducted to become a terrorist agent still sends chills up your already aching spine.

"However," the woman starts, "we will need to be running some tests to see the extent of this ability they have attempted to force upon you."

Great, more talk about tests. As if you weren't put through enough already.

"What kind of tests?" you ask. As far as you can tell, you're on an airship. You may resemble a bird in your new form, but there's no way you can be expected to fly.

"When we return to the ground, we will have you escorted to the medical bay for some monitoring on your transformation process as it happens. We have to fully understand what has been done to you," the woman says.

You feel like you're asking too many questions, but, then again, you've been taken for a second time by people you don't even know. Come to think of it...

"Who's 'we'?" you ask for a final time. This is it. The last question before you drive this woman insane.

With a hiss, the door slides open to revel the woman on the other side.

An older woman in a cloak. On her shoulder pad, you notice a faint emblem. Something you never thought you'd ever see again.

The Overwatch insignia.

"You're..." you start. You don't even know what to say anymore. Out of the many different possible organizations that could have captured you, it was the one that no one would have guessed.

Overwatch has saved you.

"You can call me Ana," she smiles.

You must look like a mess; laying down on your back, hands on both sides of your head, applying pressure to try and calm your migraine. She's _the_  Ana Amari. Second in command to Overwatch.

She takes a seat by your bed. "Tell me what you can about your ability," she states more than asks. You're more than happy to tattle on the terrorist organization for changing the entire course of your life.

"The little remote you found me with," you begin, taking a hand down from your head to feel around on the bed for the device. When you don't feel it, you begin to panic.

"It's safe. We're currently analyzing it and making sure it has no tracking device enabled," Ana says, noticing your worried expression.

"Okay, good," you sigh. Who knows what would have happened if it got into someone else's hands. "The dial apparently shows how long I have left in a transformation. When I get out of transformation, I can't function as well as I should be on a normal day. I don't think this ability was perfected when I escaped Talon," you say painfully. You wish it could have been fixed before you got the hell out of that place, but by then you could have been turned into a ruthless killing machine.

Thinking back to the dial, you recall transforming back into your normal self although you still had more time left. "I think the tranquilizer may have pulled me out of transformation earlier," you state. "I had a few hours left as a dinosaur when I was knocked out."

Ana is thinking. "That is something we can test in the near future. Should a psychoactive drug enter your bloodstream, it may affect your state of transformation."

"Where exactly are we going?" You ask, clueless as to where these specific tests will be done.

"We have a Watchpoint in Gibraltar. You've been out for a good three hours, so we are over halfway there. Touchdown should be in two hours," Ana replies. "All tests will be done there."

It's a long way from where you started. You have so many questions to ask, but the fear that you're bothering the second-in-command to Overwatch is keeping you quiet. Along with the raging migraine.

"Would you like some tea?" Ana asks out of the blue. "Caffeine helps with headaches."

You turn your head to look at her as best you can. The extended time in your transformation has your body in so much pain. "I think I'm going to need a little more than caffeine," you say.

"Are these aches a side effect of your ability?" She asks.

"I think so. When I first woke up the other day, I was hurting a lot, but it's nothing compared to the what I'm feeling right now. I was set to a twenty-four-hour transformation, so many the time had something to do with how much pain I feel. It's mainly in my spine and in my head," you speculate. With Overwatch's technology and adept medical treatment, they can fix you. How much it would cost is a question for another time.

"While we cannot move you to the medical bay for safety reasons, I will bring some painkillers along with warm tea," Ana stands up. She heads to the door and prepares to seal you back in your holding cell. In containment. You're too dangerous.

"Rest your eyes, there's nothing to worry about anymore," she assures as the door shuts.

Her footsteps fade away and you're left in silence.

You're worried about your remote. Who's looking at it now? If they mess with it too much, could you be stuck in the dinosaur form forever? What will people think of you when you arrive at the Watchpoint?

The thought of people thinking of you as a failed lab experiment enters your mind. It's technically true, as much as you'd like to think it's not. A tool for terrorists.

"You awake in there, love?" A voice sounds from outside the door.

"I am," you reply. You never even heard her walk up.

"Thought you'd want a little bit of company while Ana makes you tea! I can't open the door, but I can sit out here and wait for her to come back," the cheery girl on the other side says. "I'm Tracer," she says, waving hello through the little barred window. "I don't think Ana told us your name."

You tell her your name. It's not like Overwatch will use that information against you. If anything, they can use it to find out what happened to you in your absence from society.

"That's a lovely name! Wish I were tall enough to see through this window here so I can match your face to your name," you can see her hair bouncing into view through the window as she tries to see into the cell.

"Got a nickname in mind?" She asks, trying to start up a conversation. You can hear her take a seat on the floor outside the door. "Talon's probably got your full name on record. A nickname would throw off anyone trying deliberately to find you."

Now that you think of it, your full name is completely compromised. Talon will be looking for any signs of you. You're a valuable weapon in their eyes.

"Talon called me D.I.G.. It's an acronym for something, but I haven't found out what it means," you respond to Tracer.

"D.I.G.... Dig... yeah that could work! It's a casual word, nothing too specific to set off an alarm in a Talon Agent's head," she says. "The D could stand for dinosaur! Dinosaur... is... good?" She giggles.

She knows you're not in a comfortable position right now, surrounded by strangers, being taken against your own free will to be tested. You can hear it in the way she laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm just joking, it's probably something super scientific," she says. "I bet Winston will have a better idea of what it could mean."

"Who else is on this ship?" you ask. You're not entirely familiar with the names and faces of Overwatch. You just know about the main three: Ana Amari, Jack Morrison, and Gabriel Reyes. All of whom were presumed dead. If Ana's alive after all of these years, it wouldn't be out of place for the other two to be alive as well.

"We've got our scientist, Winston, our doctor, Mercy, our shield, Reinhardt, and our sniper, Ana. And me, of course," she replies. "Winston is busy checking on your little device. He should be done by the time we land at the Watchpoint! How does it work anyways?"

"If I knew I'd tell you. But from what I've seen, you just turn the dial and poof, I'm a raptor until the dial runs it's course. It's not as much fun as movies make transformation seem," you say. It's actually not fun at all.

"Well, when we get started with some tests I'm sure we'll figure out the science behind it," Tracer says. "We could possibly even perfect the ability for you, if you want."

"If there's no way to get rid of it entirely, that could be Plan B for me," you respond to her proposal.

"I'm afraid that's a problem that'll have to be answered by Mercy, love. I'm not sure that taking away your ability entirely would be safe," she sighs, "the process could take your life if we try to remove it without knowing what causes it."

You can hear footsteps softly echoing in the hallway, heading to your room.

"Could you open up the door for me, dear?" Ana asks as she approaches your room. She must be back with tea and medicine.

"You got it!" Tracer jumps up from her spot on the floor to grant Ana access to your room. They both enter, Tracer's smile faltering when she realizes you're in a lot of pain as you try to sit up. With Ana's hands full, holding two teacups and your painkiller, she's unable to help. Tracer takes the initiative to blink away and reappear with some pillows moments later, propping them up under your own so you don't have to worry about straining your back to stay in a sitting position.

"Thank you," you reply softly. You're not exactly in the most comfortable position with so many pillows stacked under your head, but you'd rather drink tea this way than laying down, further making yourself look like a mess.

Ana offers you a teacup without a teabag in it and a pill. "Black tea. I haven't put any milk or sweeteners in it. You'll have to tell me how you like it next time," she smiles, dipping her teabag in her own cup. She sits back down at her previous seat beside your bed. Tracer takes a seat on the floor, eager to learn more about you.

The tea is incredibly strong, but it's the best liquid you've got for taking the pill at the moment.

Ana must have given you an extremely strong painkiller because your pain is gone almost immediately after the it reaches your stomach. Your head is clear and your spine stops screaming in pain.

"Woah," is all you can say. Both Ana and Tracer have smiles on their face.

"Overwatch has the most advance medical technology in the world," Ana responds to your awe. "You don't want to take more than two in a forty eight hour time span, though. The strength of the medication will have you in a daze."

"This pill's meant for those who return injured from missions. It's not a good idea to be too active if you're on it, though. It wears off faster if you don't rest, so we never use it in the middle of missions," Tracer chimes in. "It could make you drowsy, too."

"Even the caffeine in the tea won't keep you awake," Ana chuckles, "but some sleep will do you good."

You're exhausted from the events of the past few days. Just /some/ sleep doesn't even feel like it'd be enough to fully recharge you. A weeks worth of sleep would be nice.

"Did Winston get back to you about the remote?" Tracer asks Ana.

"He has. He said he had discovered a tracking chip in the device," Ana replies. Your breath catches in your throat, making you nearly choke on the tea in your mouth. "It was disabled when he found it. Talon must've been very sure that their security would have prevented an escape."

"That's a relief," Tracer feigns wiping sweat from her forehead. "What about Soldier? He find anything?"

You finish your tea and hand the cup over to Ana. "Soldier?" you ask. Tracer didn't say anything regarding a 'Soldier' being on the ship.

"He's back at the Watchpoint. I asked him over ear comm to search for any missing person reports from Oasis," Ana replied. "He found one."

Ana pulls a hologram device from inside her cloak and projects a report. It has your name on it and your picture, with a big label of 'MISSING' above it. You can't read the finer print below. "Is this you?" She asks. The picture reveals that, aside from your now disheveled appearance, it is you, but the name is a real teller.

You gulp. "Yeah, that's me." Dr. Al-Shahrani must be worried sick wondering where you are. All of your electronics and other important belongings are all still in the hotel room she rented for you. Who knows how many calls you've gotten from all participants of the dinosaur project.

Ana closes the hologram down and puts the device back in her cloak. She leans forwards a bit to make sure you're attentive to what she's about to say.

"It says you've been missing for three months."

"I... I would have remembered if it were that long," you say in disbelief. Three months away from the world? And you don't remember a single thing that happened to you?

"I'm shocked that Talon didn't wipe every single one of your memories," Ana sighs, "but fear of the unknown does keep people obedient."

So that's why you put up with this testing stuff for as long as you did. Your instincts sure didn't forget anything that had happened. Your subconscious probably had enough of it, bringing you to finally escape.

"Could I go back to Oasis after all of my testing is done so Dr. Al-Shahrani knows I'm not dead?" you ask hesitantly and sleepily. The drowsiness Ana informed you about is really starting to kick in now.

Tracers looks down at the floor she's sitting on then back up at you. There's no smile on her face. "If Oasis reports that you're no longer missing," she pauses, "Talon will also know that, as well."

Ana looks solemnly at you.

"You can't return to a normal life."

Your eyes start to tear up.

"Not if Talon is out to get you."

Thats the one thing you wished for. To return to a normal life. It's amazing that the possibly-still-illegal-Overwatch was able to catch you before Talon, but it didn't have to be this way at all.

Why'd it have to be you? Out of everyone in the world, Talon chose to change your life. You could still be in Oasis right now, watching glee bloom on the faces of university students as they stand in awe at a hard light raptor running around the lobby.

But instead, you're laying down on a bed in a holding cell, on your way to an Overwatch Watchpoint. Possibly for the rest of your life.

A place filled with militant heroes, incredible scientists, amazing healthcare...

And you. A failed experiment.

What use could you possibly bring to Overwatch if you're considered a burden? Talons looking for you. They want to use you for destruction. They might want to even kill you. They'll do whatever they can to get their hands on you.

"It won't be all bad, love," Tracer says, bringing you out of your deep thoughts.

"You'll find a place, don't worry. It could take some time, but this isn't the end for you," Ana reassures you.

The two taken notice to your drowsiness and stand up, getting ready to let you sleep on this information.

You shut your eyes, forcing the swelling tears to fall down your cheeks. Two hours until you arrive at Watchpoint Gibraltar. Sleep will pass the time quickly.

Ana shuts the door. Tracer's already blinked away, but Ana stands outside the door to say one more thing to you before leaving you alone entirely. You barely catch it as you fall asleep.

"This could be a great new beginning for you. Don't give up hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, I am awful at writing dialogue scenes, but practice makes perfect! 
> 
> We finally meet new faces next chapter~
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos! It really drives me to keep on writing! Feel free to leave your suggestions as to who should be the first friend (or romance ;)) in the fic!

**Author's Note:**

> This has been my first fanfic ever, please be kind in the comments! I'm more of an artist than a writer so forgive me as this area is kind of foreign to me...
> 
> Feel free to contact me on tumblr at my Overwatch side blog if you wanna chat, @overwatchdryicicle!
> 
> I'm open for playing Overwatch on the PC with anyone! Battlenet tag is on my blog~
> 
> Want to see what the raptor transformation looks like? -> https://overwatchdryicicle.tumblr.com/post/157031504335/dig


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